Assassin's Trial
by MindlessMaelstrom
Summary: Post-The Mockingjay. The Rebellion is over, and Katniss has taken over the new empire. The new Hunger Games is introduced, but nobody knew President Snow had a son. And his sole purpose is to kill Katniss Mellark. Not for the light-hearted.
1. Prologue

A/N: This is my first fanfic, and I wrote the prologue in 2 minutes, so I'm not really expecting too much positive feedback and such, but enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hey, lawyers, I own none of the characters in THG, but James Snow is mine, and I'm gonna introduce some other NEW AND ORIGINAL characters as the story progresses. That belong to _moi, _thankyouverymuch.

* * *

><p><strong><span>PROLOGUE<span>**

_Inhale, exhale. _Come on, you can do this. _Inhale, exhale. _The other competitors don't look that bad… _Inhale, exhale. _All the training you've taken, there's no way you'll lose. _Inhale, exhale. _But there's so

many- No! Focus. _Inhale, exhale._ Any second…_ The glass pod around me rose. I looked around at the other competitors. The Hunger Games was their only chance of survival, for something their parents did,_

_ long ago. But they still had to fight. There's no way out. I'm in the Games. And there's no escape. And any minute, the Games will start. And there would be blood. Blood… Blood that had to be spilled. Blood that I_

_ hate to see. Blood that makes me sick. That makes me think of dad… _

_But then, the holo-screen came to life._

_And pictured on the holo-screen, was the person I hate the most._

_My father's murderer._

_"Let the games begin!" Katniss Mellark's voice boomed from all around me._

"NO!"

_There was an explosion. Pain. Blood. The mines… I had forgotten…_

_And now Daddy's death will never be avenged._

I woke in a sweat. Just a dream.

But you should know that I, James Snow, shall be the death of Katniss Mellark.

And my father shall be pleased.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is creepy and depressing, so I lighten up the mood waaaay up here. Away from James and his homicidal antics. He worries me. Yes, my own fictional character scares me… ANY-who. Let's hear it for frequent uploading!

*crickets chirp*

…

At least the crickets agree…

*silence*

FINE. Just read the chapter I could've taken DAYS to write. *huffs*

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

I woke up in a sweat. Panting, I grabbed the knife under my pillow and rolled to the window of my small, cramped apartment. Someone was watching me… Again. Suddenly, a red dot appeared on my chest. I raised my hands slowly, holding the knife above my head. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Pause for safety catch, and-

CSHH! I dropped the knife as the glass exploded in front of me. The knife's blade just covered the red dot before the bullet struck, bouncing off the knife and ricocheting out of the room. I dove behind my bed and groped underneath it. My hand rested on a flat, rectangular package. I pulled out the bag, and threw it onto my back. All of my belongings resided in that bag. And that wasn't all…

I whipped a gun that looked like it shot lasers from between the mattress. I rolled to one side as another bullet struck a vase behind me, causing it to shatter into deadly shards. Ignoring the pain the pieces inflicted on my back, I aimed the gun and pointed it towards the general direction of the sniper before pulling the trigger. Dashing towards the window, I threw myself from the 20-story building as a large, invisible beam hit the building in which the sniper hid, ripping the structure into pieces of metal-and-concrete shrapnel. I proceeded to pull a cord on my pack in mid-flight, and a collapsible, lightweight glider popped out. My fall turned into a steady glide as I l flew from my apartment to a smaller building. My fail-safe.

I plopped down onto the building, and stuffed my glider back into its pocket of my bag. I had designed the bag. And the gun. Speaking of which, I checked the battery level. Zero. "Gun," I said. Pause for beep. "Recharge time."

"_Two months, twenty-three hours, fifty-eight minutes, and forty-seven seconds,"_ the gun replied in a monotone.

_Crap._ Not that I hadn't been expecting it.

I stored the gun in my shoulder holster as the first row of emergency hovercraft dotted the skies. Trotting down from the building's ceiling, my apartment building exploded behind me. After all, I never leave behind any evidence.


End file.
